


wild as we are

by fated_addiction



Category: K-pop, Korean Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, SM Entertainment | SMTown, So Nyuh Shi Dae | Girls' Generation, 소녀시대 | Girls' Generation | SNSD
Genre: Angst, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 11:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8099668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: The average person can barely hold their breath.

Four late night phone call. One real conversation. Somewhere in between, Taeyeon remembers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This... was not supposed to be this long?
> 
> But it is.

-

 

 

and we fell  
into each other’s  
arms as if it were  
the safest place  
to break apart  
again 

rm drake

 

 

 

 

 

 

The average person can barely hold their breath.

The standard _thirty seconds_ is imprinted on you as a singer. It’s a regime: peak physical condition will take you to two minutes, and we will take care of you to get to four. 

Taeyeon remembers. It’s a blunt promise. 

You will learn how to breathe.

 

 

 

 

 

“I _need_ you here because I hate everybody and they _hate_ me just as much,” Tiffany slurs into the phone, and one more bottle of soju, she is going to be sick in the bathroom – maybe mostly with guilt.

Hyoyeon mouths a silent apology to Taeyeon as they trade reigns. She waits until the door shuts and the lock makes an empty sound in the apartment, signaling that she is alone with her best friend. She watches Tiffany stumble out of a stool, leaning against the breakfast nook as she tries to reach for a crumpled bag of chips.

“You should come _here_ ,” she continues and Taeyeon slowly makes her way into the kitchen, grabbing the empty bag and replacing it with the convenience store back that she’s brought with her, full of junk food and soda. Tomorrow morning, it’ll be hangover soup. Tiffany finally greets her with a look. “Taeyeonie is here,” she says to the phone and then grimaces, “I mean Taeyeon-ssi, leader of my group _Girrrls Generation_!” Tiffany erupts and stumbles into a greeting, one that Taeyeon hasn’t seen since they were trainees. Her eyes are hooded. “I’m talking to Jessica,” she stage whispers, “Jessica _Jung_!”

This is not a week into Tiffany and her scandal. This is the only thing Taeyeon thinks; scandals lead to unpredictable behavior – it’s a cycle at best and the other girl is somewhere between grief and anger and probably confusion. But it’s Jessica’s name that makes Taeyeon’s throat tighten. Her eyes feel a little wide and she stares at Tiffany. This is the first time, in a long time, that she is a reality in front of her.

“Maybe you should tell her that you need to go,” she says quietly, and the knots in her stomach start to braid together, working their way into the back of her throat. She raises her hand, rubbing her fingers into her neck too. You should rest,” Taeyeon still says, gently even, but her ears are ringing loudly.

Tiffany wears an accusatory expression. “I –” As quickly as Jessica’s name falls, Tiffany slouches over, clutching a hand to her mouth and throwing her phone. “Bathroom!” she cries out and runs, leaving to Taeyeon fumbling with her phone.

Her feet are glued to the floor. It takes her a minute. She’s still wearing her jacket. Her face flushes and she can hear Tiffany in the bathroom.

“I’m not good at this,” she says dumbly. The phone is suddenly at her ear. She stares straight ahead. She should turn on some lights, she tells herself. There’s a soft laugh. It changes into a sigh. “I should go in and hold her hair back. She’ll hate getting it in her hair…”

Jessica’s voice sounds so strange in her ear. “Give her some space, she’s still a lightweight,” she says. She’s gentle and it unsettles Taeyeon: this is the first time they have talked and for all the girls don’t tell her, she knows that a few members are talking to Jessica again. Her jealousy rises and hides in the back of her throat. This isn’t fair, she thinks.

This wasn’t supposed to be the way. (Taeyeon lies to herself a lot.)

The other line quiets though. Taeyeon convinces herself to turn away and walk into the kitchen. She’s methodical. She unpacks the convenience store bag. Puts away most the junk food into Tiffany’s secret stash. She stops in front of the refrigerator and bites her lip, studying some of the pictures of the girls, of her friends, and of her family.

“What did she say to you?” she asks finally, her voice sharpening. It feels misplaced. Jessica laughs and it’s husky, not mocking, warming Taeyeon’s face back into a flush. “I mean –” she sighs, rubbing her face. “Sorry,” she manages, “I’m just worried.”

“I know.” There’s a pause. “Everyone is.” There’s another pause. It isn’t a dig. “You can’t make her talk about it. It might the worst thing you could do… this isn’t a dating scandal. This is everything else. She just needs to do what she’s doing.” Jessica shifts into something that sounds like exhaustion. “Let her come to you.”

“I’m trying.”

Jessica snorts. “You’re the worst at lying.”

“It’s not like I haven’t _tried_ ,” she retorts, insisting, and hates that it’s Jessica, suddenly, that’s the one that’s getting this. In fact, she thinks, it’s only been Jessica that’s really been able to slide under her skin this way. She leans against the counter. “She’s just not herself and I don’t understand how to handle it. None of us do… and I think that isn’t helping her either. We should be doing better than this.”

She is clutching Tiffany’s phone like a lifeline. It’s a strange sensation; it feels like she’s found her voice. She breathes and the sound cracks, straight into her ears. She listens to Jessica on the other line, fumbling into trying to find something to focus.

“You were better at this,” she mutters, her eyes closing. “Stuff,” she adds.

“No one is good at this.”

Taeyeon shifts her mouth into a bare smile. “You’re the better liar,” she says and regrets.

“You always knew how to walk words into my heart.” Jessica does not miss a beat. It’s sharp and present. Like she is ready for a fight.

A long pause settles. The sound of running water in the bathroom fills the air. Taeyeon purses her lips and then pushes herself away from the counter, moving into the living room to turn the television. She ignores the news and settles on a movie. These are the things that she knows how to do: break up the room and fill it with noise, direct the attention away and let someone else hide. It’s suffocating and painful.

“You can only do the best you can,” Jessica says suddenly. She sounds distant, maybe unsure. “You don’t have to give anything other than that. Stop thinking you owe everyone the world.” Jessica hesitates. “This is why mistakes are painful,” she murmurs.

The words linger. There is way too much that remains unspoken. She tells herself that this isn’t about them, this is about Tiffany and she is here for _Tiffany_. In the best way that she knows how. Fumbling. Mostly clumsy.

But the sound of Jessica’s voice surfaces much more than that – facts, she tells herself. These are facts. It still frazzles her brain because Jessica’s voice remains more than a frenzied pitch and memory.

“How did you do?” Taeyeon feels small. She moves towards the bathroom as an escape. She can’t take back these words either. They stand, ready and waiting.

Jessica makes another sound, half a laugh, more a sigh. It doesn’t matter. She pictures her this way: at home, alone, hair loose and her face, smiling that smile, the one that has always unsettled Taeyeon, sharp at the corners, soft only when she breathes.

She sounds careful. “I managed,” she says.

 

 

 

 

 

Tiffany asks in the morning.

“You talk to her?” her voice is shadowed with sleep and regret, filling the apartment. The television is still on in the living room. “Jessica?”

They share a bed, wear matching pajamas as they were still kids, and Taeyeon’s hair has come undone, wild and messy and sticking itself underneath her chin.

Taeyeon remains mystified.

“I think I did.”

 

 

 

 

 

Hawaii is an accident. Taeyeon does not want to go.

“Team building sounds awkward,” she confesses to Heechul on the plane, half-groaning, “and, erm, not like a vacation at all.”

He ruffles her hair and then flicks her forehead. “You’ll be fine.” 

Leaders show up. It’s actually sort of exhausting, considering most of them are shoved into an array of schedules and scandals, life choices and other whirlwinds. So she gets stuck going, braves the airport and the photos at the hotel, smiles through signings and company exercises and more than one _big_ dinner. 

At some point, she lies for some free time. Says something Taeyeon-y like: “I think I want to use the beach to write some music!” and is greeted with amused smiles (Seohyun) and eye rolls (Yuri _and_ Hyoyeon) as she escapes to the beach with a bottle of wine and a notepad that she stole and shoved into her pocket from her room.

Her phone mostly lives in the back pocket of her shorts as it is. She’s worried. She doesn’t say it out loud. Then hates herself because it’s not just worry, it’s the lingering reminder that there are anniversaries and things coming up and she’s actually stepped out of the sentence, “It’s been years since I’ve talked to Jessica.” This makes her feel a little weird.

The beach is still quiet though. She walks away from the hotel pool and onto the walkway down, kicking off her sandals by the stairs. The sand is cool underneath the heels of her feet. The air is hazier as she walks away from the light, only to settle near the closest part of high tide. For a minute, she sits and closes her eyes, her hand fumbling slowly against the back pocket of her jean as she tries to pull out her phone.

“Don’t do it,” she says out loud. It’s not even kind of convincing.

She takes simple steps: opens her contact list, scrolls past _soojungie!_ and settles on _sooyeon_ because as angry and hurt and a million other things she can think of, Jessica will only always be Sooyeon to her. It’s a dirty secret.

The breeze picks up and pulls at the hairs on the back of her neck. She presses the call button after a minute or so. Presses speaker and tries to swallow.

“You still know my number?”

There is only a fourth ring. Taeyeon was expecting voicemail.

“I’m not petty,” she mutters and Jessica snorts. “Where are you?” she asks too, straining. “You sound far away –”

Taeyeon straightens and the sand digs into the back of her thighs. She’s forgotten about the bottle of wine next to her and digs the notepad into the sand, watching as it starts to press and sink into the pages.

“I forgot a pen,” she says, bringing the phone closer to her mouth. Her teeth pick at her lip. “And I’m sitting alone on the beach. I needed some air.”

Jessica’s laugh is sort of savage. “You’re such a cliché right now, you know.”

“I’m not _good_ with crowds. I feel like I’ve overextended myself as it is – there are team-building exercises! This is an MT not a vacation.” She’s almost pouting, but she doesn’t care. She has been holding onto this for what feels like forever.

“That’s what the news said,” Jessica replies dryly.

Taeyeon groans.

“Soojungie went to Vegas,” she says too, laughing a little, and honestly, Taeyeon thinks, the Jung sisters will forever move to their own beat. It’s frustrating and aweing, more intimidating than ever as she gets older. She doesn’t understand it.

“I heard.” Taeyeon feels the guilt crawl out from the back of her throat. “I wish…”

“It’s a non-issue,” Jessica says. Her voice is light and cautious; the territory between them trembles, a little. You should expect that, Taeyeon tells herself. “And anyways,” Jessica continues, “It would be weird if you didn’t go. That’s like not going to your own party. Sometimes you have do things you don’t want to.”

It will forever be the most uncomfortable admission Taeyeon will give to herself. Jessica has always made her the angriest, the most frustrated, but the most _honest_ and while she can give the other girls anything, _everything_ , Jessica makes her feel like she has to fight and hide herself because of these things.

Her heart crawls into her throat. The breeze starts to cool and press into her cheeks. This morning, she remembers, she scrolled onto Jessica’s Instagram. Not on purpose. Maybe on purpose. Mostly, she thinks, it was curiosity. 

It’s taken awhile to understand that she was no longer part of the chaos, Taeyeon admits. Talking, Sunny still points out, has always been Taeyeon’s choice though. But now, even after talking to Jessica at Tiffany’s, the sound of her voice spills over into her mind and photos, news, whatever it may be becomes a reality she isn’t quite sure of. That’s terrifying.

“I like your hair. It’s prettier, or maybe it’s because I haven’t seen you in a long time outside of photos and television and magazines,” she comments, _blurts_ , and wonders how much she’s really said out loud. “I mean, um – you look good,” she tries, then claps her hand over her mouth, realizing she’s gone and said this out loud.

Jessica laughs. “Are you drunk?”

“It’s true.” Taeyeon is defensive. “Your hair though,” she stumbles, “It’s gotten longer. I think I like it the best that way.” Her mouth purses together and she sighs, confessing. “I took a bottle of wine from the open bar though…”

“So you’re drunk.”

“No!” Taeyeon flushes when Jessica laughs again. There are butterflies sneaking into her belly, warming against her skin. “Look, you know how awkward I am at making polite excuses.”

“I remember,” Jessica murmurs, and they both pause.

Taeyeon closes her eyes to the silence, stumbles to focus on the sounds of the ocean, the low murmur of the hotel behind her, and just the peace of mind she should be able to take. Her breathing slows, just a little, and then her eyes open again, her fingers reaching out and grasping the neck of the wine bottle. She picks it up and stares.

I know how to miss you, she doesn’t say.

_I miss you_ , she doesn’t say either – can’t, maybe.

“I should go,” Jessica says, gently somehow. There is hesitation in her voice. Or maybe her brain is making it up, Taeyeon thinks. “My week is going to get crazy soon,” Jessica says too. “So I’m trying to keep to a set routine so that I keep it together and rest where I can. Or at least,” she says, laughing a little, “pretend I do.”

“Fair.” Taeyeon feels her throat begin to dry. “You need to take care of yourself. You forget to do that…” She feels awkward again, maybe out of place. “It’s different when you’re doing things –”

“By yourself?” Jessica cuts in, amused. “I know.”

“I didn’t mean –”

“It’s fine.” Taeyeon can picture Jessica waving her off. There’s a memory: long, pale fingers flickering forward and cool to touch. Her fingers were always cool. “Take care of yourself,” Jessica tells her and then, warmly, enough that it feels so strange. “You deserve that too.”

It takes awhile for her to realize that she’s hung up. Her phone falls into her lap and it doesn’t matter who was first or not, what goodbye happened or didn’t. Everything sort of sinks back into existence – the sand, the water, the pressure of the ground against her legs. She digs her fingers back into the sand and feels her throat start to constrict, the sensation digging into her eyes. She’s not panicking. She’s still.

It just feels a little like love.

 

 

 

 

 

At some point, Taeyeon knew.

It’s an old memory, but Tiffany used to catch her, knowingly, pull her to the side and say things, “do you know that you’re watching her?” and it would be warm, kind, and a million other things that Taeyeon knows she holds onto and hides behind.

She will admit to this: the day Jessica decided to tell them ( _her_ ) that she was starting to under how to exist in a world outside of the group and that life was almost as if she said to Taeyeon, “I am not in love with you.” It seems silly, even thinking of it now, to materialize feelings that were selfish and painful only to her onto someone that she could have kept close regardless. She understands that much, you know.

But she used to say a lot of things back to Tiffany when she would catch her, her mouth drawn tightly and embarrassed, still with the notion that she could watch Jessica forever.

“No, but that’s okay.”

Forever is equally terrifying too.

 

 

 

 

 

Her phone lights up. _Sooyeon_.

It’s after one in the morning and Taeyeon is barely in her car at the end of the company garage. Her keys swing over her knee and her hand hovers over the radio dial.

“Do me a favor,” there is no greeting when she finally answers, the second ring, and Jessica’s voice is tired, terse, and sounds ready for a fight. Taeyeon thinks _anything_ and might just hate herself a lot. “I need you to set the publicity office on fire,” Jessica finishes. She lets out a sharp laugh. “Preferably with a few people in it – the fact that my sister can’t even go on _one_ date in peace and my poor kids. _I’m just so pissed_.”

Taeyeon sighs. She can guess the news. The corner of her mouth turns. “I would do that for you,” she replies, gently even, “but I’d probably forget the gasoline. Or get a paper cut. Can you go to jail for a paper cut?”

Jessica lets out a laugh, surprised. It takes some of the severity of the other and Taeyeon leans against her seat, closing her eyes with a smile.

“Yah Kim Taeyeon – your dad jokes are going to get old one day.”

Taeyeon laughs too. “You love them.” She doesn’t mean to, but the words are there and they linger, maybe just a little bit.

“I miss them,” Jessica murmurs. She doesn’t stumble or hesitate, but there is something definitely there, as if she knew were giving up some kind of secret.

They fall into some kind of silence then. Like usual, Taeyeon thinks with amusement. It’s not comfortable, but it’s not unpleasant and maybe, weirdly, it has to do with the two of them talking again. It feels like they fell right into it or are trying to recover some kind of ground. She wonders if this is the way it was always meant to be.

Jessica’s breathing hits the line. Taeyeon’s brow furrows, confused, then startled completely out of her thoughts. She reaches for words, but then stops herself.

“I just get so angry,” Jessica murmurs, beating her to it. “My sister is off-limits. I can handle the majority of it.” Taeyeon hears a change in her voice. “I wonder if I were still –” Jessica doesn’t finish, but still sighs.

The words live in the air though. Taeyeon can hear them: I wonder what it would be like for everyone if I were still _there_. She feels guilty, thinking them. She doesn’t understand why she feels guilty and maybe even hates herself a little too.

She swallows. “I wrote a song today.”

Jessica is quiet. The phone line cackles with another shy; it shakes and shudders. She cannot think about Jessica crying. It’s painful, suddenly, the heat that stumbles into her throat.

“I don’t know how I feel about it,” she continues and finds herself starting to hum the melody. It’s a small one. She thinks pitch and tone. Remembers the beach. Understands a bit of her guilt and the words sort of come together as she finishes or starts a thought. It’s backwards, she almost laughs. Like everything else in her life. “The words would go something like I wish it didn’t matter, _but_ this part of me…” The note hits her voice and she sings the last bit, “ _hasn’t_ changed.”

There are all different types of confessions. She sees them. She writes songs about them. She tells everyone how to feels about them. It’s part of your charm, the charts always say. You’re identifiable. You’ve always been.

But this time, this one time, this part is hers.

“You can call me more.”

Jessica breaks in. She’s not quite firm, but just enough. Her breathing is shaky. She’s not loud, but she’s not too soft; there isn’t an in-between either. Jessica’s voice is distinct enough for her to know that much. 

Taeyeon opens her eyes.

“Okay,” she says, and that’s that. 

 

 

 

 

 

The company sends her to San Francisco for studio time. 

Her new album is coming, but they are still saying things on the Internet that are redundant and “Taeyeon is constantly working on new music –” because what they can’t say is that she works best when she is nowhere near the chaos as it is. Artist Taeyeon still has to maintain some kind of aura of mystery, of course.

But like always, she doesn’t put two and two together until she is sitting alone in some kind of record store, coffee shop hybrid and her news alerts go off. She sees the Instagram photo before she sees the headline: Jessica, a wildly bright smile, and the caption that simply states _home_. You write love songs for a living, she tells herself and then stops, hating herself straight after.

She shoves her phone into her bag to ignore it.

The studio session isn’t until later tonight and she could go back into the record section, she tells herself, or order herself another coffee. It’s late enough that she could probably get away with it and then head back to the hotel. She tries to think of a million different things, mundane things, to try and ignore how her heartbeat starts to pick up and how simple it might be to extend herself and say something as awkward as _dinner_ even as she mentally prepares herself for the response back.

“You know...” A hand startles her. She nearly jumps out of her chair, wide-eyed as she looks up into Jessica’s face as she bows over her, smiling in amusement. “I find it ironic,” Jessica continues, “that I can find you in a gigantic city with no problem.”

The Jessica in front of her is insanely surreal, disorienting and unsettling. A million different things panic into Taeyeon, shoving her into awareness as she takes in the woman in front of her. Sooyeon, she thinks. _Sooyeon_ , _Sooyeon_ , _Sooyeon_. Her name changes the rhythm of her heart; appropriate, she almost thinks.

Taeyeon swallows. “Stalking me?” She nearly winces. “Which, well, I –”

“Tiffany,” Jessica confesses, laughing. The sound is incredibly different in person, brighter, painful even – enough to make Taeyeon swallow in awe. “She told me,” is all she says too.

Taeyeon feels guilty and gropes blindly for her phone. Almost like a lifeline. Her hand stops and hovers over her bag. She doesn’t get it though.

“Do you have time?” she asks, almost stuttering.

Jessica softens. “No,” she murmurs. “I have meetings all day and then I have to catch a flight to New York. This is a literally a five hour trip.” The color in her face is warm. “I just wanted to say hi. Or try to,” she says too.

Taeyeon stares at her, awed. She can’t even begin to wrap her head around it. Maybe it’s a confession. Maybe it’s not. But her hand still jerks forward and she reaches for Jessica, tucking her hair behind her ear first and then standing, if only to pull her forward. The movement fails and they sort of stumble into each other, Jessica laughing, Taeyeon groaning in embarrassment even as she wraps her arms around Jessica’s neck and pulls her into a hug.

It’s different here, she tells herself and then stops. She refuses to give any sort allowance to the reality of their lives. It’s the romantic in her. Maybe it’s even progress. But she breathes Jessica in, her mouth grazing over the crook of her neck. Laughter bubbles out of her throat and she tries not to remember or say how many times she thought about doing this, getting close enough to doing this, apologizing and apologizing over and over again, as many times as it’ll take. Her eyes start to water and she makes some kind of noise in the back of her throat, hiding it into Jessica’s shoulder just as her fingers slide into her hair.

“I could kiss you,” she says, confesses, hopes and hates. She is shy enough to be embarrassed.

“We have a lot to talk about.” Jessica says this softly, almost too softly – enough for her to hear. “I don’t know if I’m ready either,” she tells her too and Taeyeon jerk open, her mouth opening because she doesn’t know how to handle that. “But I wanted to see you,” Jessica manages and draws back, gently untangling from their mess of a hug.

She meets Taeyeon’s gaze and smiles, really smiles, the kind of Jessica smile that makes her look cool and unreachable. She studies Taeyeon and then leans in, tucking her fingers over her face, dragging them down along the line of her jaw. Maybe this is enough, Taeyeon thinks. Maybe this is even halfway.

“Next time then,” Taeyeon manages and can’t even recognize the sound of her own voice, or how her heart has lodged itself into her throat, the rhythm tight and unsteady. She just stares at Jessica, wide-eyed. “Maybe?” she adds, and this is never going to be perfect. Her knees buckle a little and Jessica draws back.

They stare at each other for what seems like forever, what maybe is considering all they’ve seen of each other is pictures and regrets. Taeyeon starts to imprint her to memory, weaving it into the picture she was studying early and committing this Jessica, the one right here, as the one she is slowly wondering what it would be like to learn. And maybe this is part of falling love again. Maybe she never stopped. Jessica, right in front of her, is equal parts confusing and reassuring, daunting above all else.

It’s a strange little step. Steadier, maybe.

“Soon,” Jessica agrees.

This feels like a kiss.

 

 

 

 

 

Later Taeyeon posts a picture of a walk she takes in the city before her studio time. 

The skies are light and grey. They’re halfway to evening and she’s forgotten her umbrella back in the hotel, finding a corner underneath a building to stay dry enough for a few minutes as it starts to pour. She laughs at herself to take a picture, squinting for the right angle and then shaking her head as she uploads it anyway.

It’s been awhile anyway, she thinks. She has to put in some kind of appearance after all. So she writes _rain_ for a caption, then starts to etch a heart as an attachment, but then back peddles and deletes the whole caption. She’s done it before, she thinks with amusement. Taeyeon hesitates and then stops, tries again, moving away from regret.

_Feels a little closer to home_ , she says instead.


End file.
